POV: KAELI wake before the city makes a sound, before the light touches the walls of Emano, before even the wind has decided to move. I can hear footsteps already, quiet but insistent, rogues pacing the corridors, moving between cots, checking on each other, whispering, trying not to wake the ones who need to sleep. I smell herbs and boiling water, and the damp stone smells like memory and exhaustion, and it hits me all at once that this is our world now. That this city, these walls, these small rooms filled with pain, fear, and quiet survival, it’s ours to hold.I move through the wards first. Malik’s up, though barely. His shoulder is swollen, cut along the collarbone, bruises in a violent pattern. He doesn’t want to talk at first, just groans when I touch the cold compress to his skin, but then mutters, “They didn’t like we passed through.”I nod and tighten the wrap around his arm. “They won’t get you here,” I say. “Not ever.”He snorts, not convinced. “Words don’t stop fists, Ka
آخر تحديث : 2026-01-06 اقرأ المزيد